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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224099">i stay up all night, wondering why (i'm so tired all the time)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedmemories/pseuds/inkstainedmemories'>inkstainedmemories</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sleep Deprivation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:28:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedmemories/pseuds/inkstainedmemories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy can't sleep. It's not a problem until, suddenly, it is.</p>
<p>(In which SBI comes over to visit and Tommy's not doing too well. It turns out okay anyway.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read, Fluff Angst and Random Recs, the writer's block's Secret Santa</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i stay up all night, wondering why (i'm so tired all the time)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomCaptive/gifts">FandomCaptive</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>merry christmas cas! i hope i followed the prompt well, enjoy :)</p>
<p>(title from summer depression - girl in red)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Say bye to chat, Tommy.”</p>
<p>Tommy’s sitting in a call with Wilbur, Phil and Techno, waiting for Wilbur to end stream. His head is on his desk. There’s an incessant pounding in his brain, so he’s having trouble paying attention, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like they were doing a canon stream, thank god - as much as Tommy likes getting in character, those streams definitely take a lot more out of him, seeing how he has to stay alert the whole-</p>
<p>“Earth to Tommy,” Phil says, and Tommy lifts his head just enough to see Wilbur’s stream on his monitor, Wilbur clearly waiting for something. <em>Waiting for you</em>, he thinks, and gives his head a little shake, wincing when it aggravates his headache.</p>
<p>“Bye chat! Hey guys, remember to use your Twitch Prime, it’s free and you probably don’t even know you have it,” Tommy recites dutifully. No harm in trying to get Wilbur a couple more primes, he figures.</p>
<p>Wilbur laughs, but Tommy sees his brow furrow ever so slightly in confusion. “I think they already know, Tommy, seeing how I just said that a couple minutes ago.”</p>
<p>Tommy blinks. He honestly hadn’t realised; it’s hard to focus with his head feeling physically heavy, like he’s one of those stupid bobblehead toys people put on car dashboards. He goes to rest his head on his hands again.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, you know children need more sleep, Wilbur, he’s probably on the verge of conking out,” Techno cuts in.</p>
<p>“I resent that,” Tommy says, checking the time. “It’s not even that late, asshole!”</p>
<p>He’s right; it’s only about 10pm, but Tommy shifts uncomfortably anyways. Techno had been a little too close to the truth. It’s not that Tommy <em>can’t</em> sleep, but he’s been staying up later and later recently, and it’s apparently starting to take a toll on him. He just has this stupid urge to keep scrolling through Twitter, keep checking his analytics, keep going through the comments on his latest vod, to the extent that he often doesn’t realise it’s 4am until he hears birds chirping outside.</p>
<p>He distantly hears Techno call out his trademark wobbly <em>byeeeeee</em>. The others start chatting, more relaxed now that the stream’s over, but Tommy feels tense all over. In an attempt to ease the pounding in his skull, he closes his eyes and holds his head perfectly still. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t really work. He doesn’t know why he thought it would.</p>
<p>Tuning back into the conversation, he hears his name, and cracks open an eye. They’re going over plans for tomorrow; everyone’s going to come to Tommy’s town for the day, even Techno. He’s been looking forward to it for weeks, although his excitement is currently buried pretty far down. Somewhere under all the head pain and heavy eyelids, maybe.</p>
<p>“Also, Tommy,” Wilbur starts, “why’d I get a notification for you replying to my tweet at 3am yesterday?” </p>
<p>“That’s the witching hour, Wilbur, haven’t you heard? Best time for tweets,” Tommy says.</p>
<p>Techno pipes up. “Pretty sure that’s the sleeping hour for normal people.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Tommy grumbles, but it’s lighthearted. He zones out once more to the sound of Phil trying to direct the conversation back to tomorrow’s plans. He tries not to focus on the drumming in his skull.</p>
<p>————</p>
<p>Tommy wakes up feeling like shit.</p>
<p>Annoyingly, he doesn’t even feel like he has the right to complain about it - it’s pretty much completely his fault. He’d stayed up too late again last night, finally dozing off just as sunlight began to filter through his curtains. When he sits up, he has to pause for a moment as a wave of dizziness rushes through his head.</p>
<p>Still, he gets ready to meet the others, going through his morning routine on autopilot. The only problem with autopilot is that it doesn’t account for changes in weather - sure enough, Tommy soon realises on his walk over that he hasn’t worn nearly enough layers for the level of snow currently building up on the ground. He shivers, running a hand through his hair and feeling snow land in it. His head aches.</p>
<p>When he turns the corner and sees Wilbur, Techno and Phil standing outside Pizza Express, his mood brightens somewhat. As tired as he is, these are his <em>friends</em>, and he won’t get the opportunity to see them all together like this often. He rushes over to join them, smiling.</p>
<p>“Tommy, mate, how’s it going?” Phil greets, and from there they fall into easy conversation.</p>
<p>Lunch is nice, but it blurs by. Tommy’s headache is growing worse by the minute. It feels like someone’s picked up a mallet and started slamming it vigorously just behind his eyes. He doesn’t talk much, surreptitiously trying to massage his temples, and he sees Wilbur shoot him a considering look. Tommy pointedly avoids eye contact.</p>
<p>Afterwards, they go to a nearby park. The snow covers it like a blanket, white and pristine, and it’s surprisingly empty, save for a few people walking by. It’s pretty, Tommy supposes. Still, he’s more focused on how lightheaded he feels than the scenery, as picturesque as it may be. His throat feels dry as sandpaper.</p>
<p>“I’m so thirsty I could eat the snow off the fuckin’ ground. It’s all water to me,” Tommy jokes. “Hey Wilbur, how much would you pay me to eat the snow off the ground?”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to pay you to eat snow, Tommy,” Wilbur says, smiling and sounding exasperated. “That sounds like a surefire way to get your dad angry at me when you inevitably end up sick from eating off the ground.”</p>
<p>“I’ll pay Wilbur to eat snow,” Techno says. “Less risk of angry parents.”</p>
<p>“That’s not going to happen.”</p>
<p>“That’s what you think.”</p>
<p>“What does that even <em>mean?</em>”</p>
<p>Phil tilts his head. “Couldn’t you have gotten a drink at lunch, Tommy? There was water on the table.”</p>
<p>Tommy pauses. “Okay, dickhead, but I wasn’t thirsty then, was I?” </p>
<p>They both turn at the sound of Wilbur laughing. There stands Techno, unimpressed, his entire front covered with snow. Wilbur bends to pick up another snowball.</p>
<p>Tommy can tell what’s coming, and grins. “Snowball fight!” he crows, and they scatter. </p>
<p>It’s hard to see with snow still flurrying down, but as he’s running around, Tommy sees Techno rapidly forming a mound of snowballs and begin throwing them quick-fire. Tommy dodges a snowball, and chucks one at Techno before running up to dunk snow down Phil’s back. Phil shouts at the sudden cold, and Tommy laughs his head off.</p>
<p>He continues to run around, dodging frantically and grinning so much his face hurts. It’s the most fun he’s had in a while.</p>
<p>He doesn’t realise until he pauses to catch his breath that all the laughing and running has left him feeling lightheaded. Really lightheaded. Tommy blinks at the snow, watching his vision fuzz like static. Even though he’s not wearing nearly enough layers for the cold, he feels too warm, almost sweaty. <em>There’s something wrong with that</em>, he thinks, but can’t quite muster up the strength of mind to follow that train of thought.</p>
<p>From across the field, Tommy sees Wilbur bring up his arm to hurl a snowball at him, and Tommy jumps to the side on instinct. Except that he doesn’t really jump, but more stumbles to the side. His legs aren’t really cooperating right now. He feels like he’s going to be sick.</p>
<p>Wilbur hasn’t thrown the snowball. Instead, he’s lowered his arm and is making his way over to Tommy, brow creased. Tommy turns away. He doesn’t want Wilbur’s concern, he’s <em>fine</em>. </p>
<p>Gritting his teeth, he faces Techno and bends down to gather more snow. He straightens up, ready to hit Techno in the back, but just as soon as he tries, his vision blackens. The last thing he sees is the world tilt alarmingly, and then there’s nothing.</p>
<p>———</p>
<p>He comes round to the sound of murmured voices.</p>
<p>“Did you see how pale he looked?”</p>
<p>“No shit, he matched the fucking snow-”</p>
<p>“Alright, keep your voice down, he’s right there.”</p>
<p>He’s laying on some kind of bed, and even before he opens his eyes he can tell that the room is brightly lit. As he shifts, he hears the voices fall quiet. He opens his eyes.</p>
<p>“Tommy?” Phil says, voice cautious. Tommy goes to reply, but does a double take at his surroundings. He can see now that he’s in a hospital cubicle, with Phil, Wilbur and Techno all sitting cramped together on too-small chairs. </p>
<p>“Why am I in a hospital? I’m not sick-” Tommy starts, but quickly falls silent at Wilbur’s glare.</p>
<p>“You <em>passed out</em> in the middle of a snowball fight,” Wilbur rebukes, and his words are stern but his eyes hold nothing but concern. “That’s not exactly the mark of a healthy person.”</p>
<p>Tommy grimaces. He knew that not getting enough sleep wasn’t great, but he didn’t think it was a big deal. Waking up in hospital definitely makes it feel a lot more serious, though.</p>
<p>The nurse walks in. She has her hair tied up in a neat bun, and Tommy’s greeted with the full force of her smile. He shifts uncomfortably, not liking that all the focus in the room right now is on him.</p>
<p>“There wasn’t too much we could do while you were asleep, although you do have a slight fever. Now you’re awake, I’d like to quickly run through some questions with you to help discern the cause of your fainting. Is that alright?” She beams her megawatt smile at him. Tommy frowns back. He’s not as pumped about being in hospital as she seems to be.</p>
<p>Tommy answers the questions he’s asked without much fanfare. There’s nothing that out of the ordinary, at least not until:</p>
<p>“How’s your sleep been recently?”</p>
<p>Tommy doesn’t want to lie, so instead he avoids looking at any of his friends as he answers, “not great.” Even so, out of the corner of his eye he sees Techno look up, and Phil and Wilbur exchange glances.</p>
<p>“How much did you get last night?”</p>
<p>“Uh, maybe three hours? Two?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I didn’t time it or anything.”</p>
<p>At that, Phil sits forward. “Tommy,” he starts, and Tommy can already feel a pit forming in his stomach. He hates disappointing people.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to make you guys worry or anything, I just stay up late sometimes. I didn’t realise I’d faint because of it,” he says quickly, trying to make them understand. He feels awful that they’ve had to come and basically <em>babysit</em> him because he couldn’t sleep like a normal human being.</p>
<p>“What?” Phil says, looking genuinely bewildered. “No, Tommy, we’re not mad at you, mate. You need to take better care of yourself, that’s all. We’re <em>worried</em>. You can’t be fainting in parks like that, it’s not healthy.”</p>
<p>The nurse nods. She starts talking about proper amounts of sleep for teenage boys, and gives him paracetamol for his headaches. Tommy looks down at his lap, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. He wants to go home.</p>
<p>Wilbur apparently reads the discomfort in his face and guides the conversation to a close, ushering Tommy out to the car. The others follow behind. Tommy doesn’t like how they’re eyeing him like he’s some fragile piece of china, but he doesn’t say anything, and goes to sit in the backseat with Techno.</p>
<p>———</p>
<p>They’ve been on the road for a while, Tommy staring out the window at the thick, grey clouds hanging low over the buildings. Even after having passed out, his brain still feels fuzzy.</p>
<p>“Might as well start catching up on sleep now, right?” Phil says from behind the wheel, smiling at Tommy gently in the rearview mirror. “We’re going to be driving for a while longer.”</p>
<p>Tommy nods, and leans back in his seat. He quickly realises it’s too uncomfortable to sleep against, so he promptly leans over to place his head on Techno’s lap. He closes his eyes contentedly. </p>
<p>He can tell Techno is trying very hard not to move a muscle underneath him. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he hears Wilbur laugh. “Techno, you can’t just text me saying that we need to switch seats ASAP. We’re on the road.” </p>
<p>Techno grouses, “What am I supposed to do, let him drool all over me?”</p>
<p>Tommy barely gets out an affronted “I don’t drool, bitch,” before he succumbs to sleep. As he drifts away, he feels a hand settle in his hair and begin threading through it steadily. He smiles.</p>
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